


The People vs. James Barnes

by GayGrandpa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (by themes I mean that I really like Elektra), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Friends to Lovers, I have no idea why I thought the world needed this, M/M, Nightmares, Not Season 2 Compliant, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Burn, but contains some of season 2's themes, foggy is a nerd, gentle moonlight dances to jazz music, karen regularly has dinner with mrs. urich, matt and foggy can't communicate for shit, mentions of HYDRA conditioning, mentions of the red room, mostly because I want the urich family to have some semblance of goodness in their lives, possibly? there's references, pre-war scenes, the show didn't have enough lawyering tbh, you will likely see 0 superheroing scenes in favor of THE LAW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayGrandpa/pseuds/GayGrandpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt starts first, not looking up from his Braille paperwork. "There might be some complications with putting Rogers up on the stand. He's biased." </p><p>Foggy frowns a bit, gathering up some of his papers into a neat stack. "Biased? Of course he is, dude, they've been best friends for forever." </p><p>Matt shakes his head at that, frown deepening. "Not just friends. Trust me."</p><p>Foggy shoots a look at Matt, keeping his voice lowered. "Look, it's just in the captain's best interest to keep his friend safe. We could still have him testify. It's not like they're dating or anything. I mean the guy is clearly straight-" he glances over at the man in question, watching as Steve gently rests his hand on James's thigh, rubbing gentle circles and offering the smaller man a warm smile. "Okay," Foggy revises, "maybe there's a little something going on." </p><p>--<br/>An AU where Nelson and Murdock is hired as the firm to represent one Mr. James Buchanan Barnes in his trial against the nation for war crimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Case Like No Other

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a work in progress, and because of that I'll be adding characters, tags and maybe even shifting the archive warning as I write. Currently being beta-d by oflionsandwolves.

 

 

It's approximately 7:43 AM when the biggest case in Nelson and Murdock history strolls through the firm's newly-refurbished door. Karen called both titular lawyers into the lobby with a strained voice, and that's honestly when Foggy started to figure that this wasn't just another "my husband doesn't like our cat, is that precedent for a divorce?" kind of case. Matt was already in the main room when Foggy opens his door, taking note of the way Matt's shoulders relax when he looks towards the door. Foggy follows his lead, turning to grin at their new clients. 

 

"Welcome to Nelson and Mur-" Foggy freezes mid-sentence as he realizes just who is standing in their doorway. Motherfucking Steve "Captain America" Rogers and Bucky "Wanted Criminal in Literally Every Country" Barnes. "-holy shit."

 

Matt scowls a little at Foggy's exclamation before turning his attention back to their clients with a gentle smile. "I'm sorry about my associate. Welcome to Nelson and Murdock. How may we help you today?" 

 

Steve smiles back cautiously, shifting a bit towards Bucky like he's afraid the lawyers are gonna hurt him. "We need representation for a-" he sighs softly "difficult case." 

 

"And what might that case be, Mister, er-" Matt tilts his head a bit  

 

"Rogers. Steve Rogers. And James Barnes is with me." The large man replies, quite apologetically. "I forgot-"

 

"That I can't see?" Matt smiles tiredly. "Don't worry, I get that a lot. It doesn't impair our work." 

 

Foggy coughs softly. "Another note. He's Captain Freakin' America, dude." 

 

Matt quirks an eyebrow behind his shades. "Silly me, I guess I thought it was another Steve Rogers whose footsteps indicate the physique of a Greek Adonis." Foggy notices that Steve gets a strange look on his face at that, but it's probably best not to explain that a lawyer you're looking to employ is also a ridiculous masked vigilante with superpowers on the side, no matter how familiar the guy might be with that sort of subject matter. 

 

"Can we talk about the case?" The voice is cold, but anxious. Not something Foggy expected from the pale brunette that apparently had been assassinating people since the 50s. 

 

"Of course, Buck." Steve gives James a warm, reassuring smile. His eyes then turn to Matt and Foggy, all business. "I'm assuming you know a lot of the details if you've been paying any attention to the news over the past couple of months." He sighs, looking more tired than anyone really has a right to. "The country is looking to convict Bucky for the crimes of the Winter Soldier. They would have just put him in jail, but I managed to generate enough pull to get a trial." Steve's eyes are determined, driven by a pain evident in his voice. "We need a chance for Bucky to tell his story. Maybe then they'll come to their senses and let him go." 

 

Barnes laughs humorlessly at the notion. "They're not gonna listen, Stevie. Best I'm gonna get is that they might not give me life for that shit." 

 

Matt frowns, posture straightening, voice firm. "We won't let that happen, Mr. Barnes." His expression softens after a moment, feeling the tension in the room. "Why don't we find a good time so you can tell us the whole story." Foggy glances over at Matt slightly. He must be doing that damn human lie-detector thing with how readily he's willing to believe the word of this alleged killer. 

 

"Sounds good." Steve smiles gratefully. "Would Wednesday evening work for you?" 

 

Foggy confirms the appointment, giving the two soldiers his most charming smile. This was gonna be a long case. 

 

\--

 

Wednesday approached with a certain anticipation, and Foggy spends most of the day looking over paperwork and babbling nervously to Matt about his childhood, growing up watching Captain America documentaries, and honestly how this was the biggest thing he had experienced since meeting THE Matthew Murdock of Hell's Kitchen fame. Matt gives Foggy small sounds of encouragement, although his attention is obviously focused elsewhere. Foggy eventually decides that trying to get his nervousness out through word vomit is futile, looking through the case files instead. 

 

**JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES**

**ALIASES** : "Bucky", "The Winter Soldier", "The Asset"

**SERIAL NO**.: 32557038

**DOB** : March 10th, 1917

**PRESUMED "DEATH" AND HYDRA ACQUISITION** : December 4th, 1944

**SEPARATION FROM HYDRA** : April 4th, 2014

**WEIGHT** : 218 lbs

**HEIGHT** : 5"11"

**PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION** : Dark Brown hair, Blue-green eyes, bionic left arm, muscular

**SKILLS** : Enhanced strength, agility, durability, reflexes and healing factor. Expert in martial arts and other hand-to-hand combat skills, marksmanship (both in gun and blade), stealth, and acrobatics. Has been shown to have knowledge of aviation and several languages, of which English and Russian are spoken fluently. High threat level, anyone with less than utmost training **_SHOULD NOT ENGAGE_**.

 

The dossier then goes on to list an exact copy of the Smithsonian Museum's biography of Bucky from the Captain America exhibit. ' _Not very original'_   Foggy muses with a small smirk, looking up as the sound of knuckles on wood reverberates through the office. 

 

Matt gets to the door first, of course, opening the large wooden panel to smile the two soldiers, dressed casually. 

"Hello Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers." He nods in their general direction. "Do you two want to sit down while we get the paperwork together?" 

 

James nods tensely at the request, frowning a bit when Matt doesn't show any acknowledgement. 

 

"He nodded, Matty. You can let 'em in now." Foggy grins, leaning against his office's frame. Matt smiles softly, apologizing for not having guessed and stepping aside. Foggy leads their guests over to the office's makeshift waiting area, offering them coffee, which Steve declines and James tentatively accepts. Foggy leaves them be for a bit, going into the back office with Matt to talk. 

 

Matt starts first, not looking up from his Braille paperwork. "There might be some complications with putting Rogers up on the stand. He's biased." 

 

Foggy frowns a bit, gathering up some of his papers into a neat stack. "Biased? Of course he is, dude, they've been best friends for forever." 

 

Matt shakes his head at that, frown deepening. "Not just friends. Trust me."

 

Foggy shoots a look at Matt, keeping his voice lowered. "Look, it's just in the captain's best interest to keep his friend safe. We could still have him testify. It's not like they're dating or anything. I mean the guy is clearly straight-" he glances over at the man in question, watching as Steve gently rests his hand on James's thigh, rubbing gentle circles and offering the smaller man a warm smile. "Okay," Foggy revises, "maybe there's a little something going on." 

 

Matt laughs quietly, standing up from his seat. "Are they kissing or something?" 

 

Foggy rolls his eyes. "I know you could've heard that, nerd. No, it was just a hand on his thigh, but yeah....they look at each other like the other one is the only person in the world. It's kind of sweet." 

 

Matt nods at that, visibly relaxing. "I think Mr. Rogers has enough of a respect for the law that he won't try to cloud over anything. And I'll tell you if he does." 

 

Foggy nods at that, sighing softly as they start to head towards the door. "Invasion of privacy, but I get it." He pauses as Matt reaches for the doorknob, placing a gentle hand on his associate's shoulder. "Let's keep them safe." Matt smiles tiredly, head tilting in confirmation as he pushes the door open, greeting their clients and staring to page through paperwork. 

 

\--

 

The initial meeting is seamless, with James telling his story, Steve filling in where his memory is patchy. Foggy takes notes as Matt asks clarifying questions, both sets of men working in impeccable teams. Karen brings them a tape recorder and some coffee about 30 minutes in, reminding Matt and Foggy that they have a meeting with Mr. Avazzo, a man whose funds were illegally being siphoned from his paycheck each week, in about an hour. Foggy thanks her warmly, starting up the recorder and beginning with his set of questions. 

 

"Mr. Barnes, how much do you remember about the conditioning techniques they subjected you to?"  

 

James's face goes cold as he closes his eyes, memories obviously uncomfortable. 

 

"They didn't tell me all the details. A weapon doesn't need to know how it's made." The statement is monotone, and it reads like a mantra. He must have been told that exact same phrase many times. "There were severe electric shocks distributed throughout my body when they wiped me. They said something about the parietal lobes and sub-cortical systems once." Barnes' eyes are fixed on the floor as he talks, even as Steve holds his hand, trying to comfort him. "The technology was a lot more advanced with HYDRA than it was when I was with the Russians. More painless. The Russians liked to implant new memories sometimes. I can still...." He visibly winces, "-I can still remember growing up in Vladivostok with a Russian Orthodox mother feeding me mush made of boiled beets. I remember the girlfriend they gave me, how the American soldiers killed her brutally. How they made me watch when..." His voice breaks and he trails off, eyes distant. Steve frowns, gathering his friend into his arms. 

 

"It's okay, Buck. It's okay." Steve starts gently petting the smaller man's hair, and from what Foggy can tell, it seems to help. 

 

"Is it possible that, if memories could be implanted, that some of your thoughts and feelings now could be, for a lack of a better word, synthetic?" Matt's voice is emotionless, and Foggy is kind of appalled he said it, even if the question is necessary. James Barnes looks up towards Matt with utmost disgust in his eyes, angry. 

 

"You think I don't think about that every goddamn day?! That I'm not constantly terrified that I'm going to hurt the people I care about? You can go fuck yourself, Murdock."

 

Matt simply blinks at the insult, putting his hand softly on the recorder. "It's something we have to consider. The prosecution will be citing it beyond a doubt. It just means we need a solid counter-argument, and I believe we can come up with it. However, that means you have tocooperate, Mr. Barnes." 

 

James lets Steve pull him gently back onto the couch, still bristling. "Funny. The damn German scientist that turned me into a monster said the same fucking thing about cooperation." 

 

Foggy watches Matt pale slightly, but that's the only indication that there's anything less-than-perfect happening in the blind man's headspace. 

 

"You're not a monster." Foggy swoops in for the save. "And we're gonna prove it, okay?"

 

Bucky glances at Foggy, softening slightly. "Yeah. Alright." 

 

Foggy absolutely beams at that. They're making progress. It's little, but they're making progress. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky will probably continue to be referred to as James until our lawyers get to know him on a more personal basis. --and vice versa. professional relationships, guys


	2. A Takeout and Case Notes Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debriefing occurs, and new leads are gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the relatively short chapter coupled with the long-ish wait. Spring Break is, somehow, not a fantastic environment for me to write in. 
> 
> This chapter was beta-d by the lovely oflionsandwolves, who I have no idea how to link into this box.

The next meeting with the two soldiers is relatively uneventful, focusing mostly on small details and paperwork, both lawyers pointedly trying not to bring up the subject of HYDRA's torture methods so quickly after the last debacle. Steve tells a lot of stories about searching for Bucky, detailing with vivid precision, the Battle on the Triskelion. He talks about fighting Bucky, about the way took every hit, the way he was willing to die by Bucky's hand if need be, the strong grip of a palm around his own as he sunk below the waves of the Potomac. Steve's words are spoken with reverence, as if the story was some kind of coffee shop meet-cute instead of a failed assassination attempt. Barnes himself keeps his eyes squarely on the floor as Steve speaks, fingers laced tightly with the blonde's. It's not until the last fifteen minutes that Foggy starts to press James a bit more for information, tentative. 

 

"Do you think anyone else would be able to give testament to your humanity while you were controlled by the Russians or HYDRA?" James looks up at the question, looking beyond exhausted. 

 

"Only one other that is no longer controlled by the agencies. Natalia Alianovna Romanova." Barnes glances over slightly at Steve. "Nat. I trained her. In the Red Room, when they had me. She can confirm it." The look James gives his partner is slightly searching, like he's trying to figure out if what he's saying is the truth. Steve nods a bit in response, the hand covering Barnes' squeezing gently. 

 

"It would be immensely helpful to be able to speak with her." Matt interjects, typing gently into a specially formatted note-taking device. "Do you think she'd mind an interview? Or being a witness?"

 

"She's a bit closed-off," Steve frowns slightly. "But I think she'd do this for us." James nods at the statement, seeming to relax slightly. 

 

"Then we'll set up a meeting as soon as possible." Matt smiles warmly. "Would you like to be there as well?" 

 

James shakes his head slightly. "We could complicate the story. Influence it. You should get the most genuine version you can." Foggy smiles gently at that. 

 

"I'd swear you were a lawyer too. Good thinking." James just frowns at the compliment. 

 

"It's just common sense." Foggy feels the tension in the room thickening again, cursing himself slightly. Steve smiles tiredly at the two lawyers, shifting in his seat. 

 

"We should get going. I have a debriefing soon. But same time on Thursday? And I'll send you Nat's contact information." Matt gives his best charming smile back to the super soldier, extending a hand. 

 

"Sounds perfect, Mr. Rogers. I look forward to seeing you and Mr. Barnes on Thursday." The two soldiers shake Matt's hand, and then Foggy's as he extends it. Rogers and Barnes then file out of the office, Steve's hand resting calmingly on the small of James' back. 

 

Foggy shuffles his notes into a neat stack, yawning as he looks over at his partner. "Good lead with Romanova. I just wish we had more to work with."

 

Matt nods slightly, stepping into their office to start compiling their research. "It's hard to sift through, but I think our information is solid. We'll have a steel defense." His smirk is subtle, but it still is infectious enough to leave Foggy grinning. 

 

"I really hope you're not making some kind of joke about his metal arm, because it's in super bad taste Murdock." Matt's face scrunches up at the remark like he's put an entire lemon in his mouth, pouting slightly. 

 

"An arm joke? Oh God, of course not." Foggy just laughs, setting down his papers on the crowded space he calls his desk. 

 

"Of course not, Matty. So is tonight's plan takeout Chinese and research like I think it is?" 

 

"Sure is." Matt grins, pulling out his laptop and screen reader. "Want me to have Karen order?" Foggy nods contentedly, starting to transcribe his notes onto a cleaner document. 

 

"Orange chicken and egg rolls for me, you know the drill." He hums gently, watching as Matt pulls out his phone and uses the speech-to-text to send the message to Karen that it's a 'takeout and case notes' night. Within a few moments, a text comes back, dictated by the computer voice as saying 'can't come 2night, having dinner with Mrs. Urich. Save me some chow mein (heart emoji)'. Foggy laughs softly, taking on the mantle of orderer. 

 

\--

 

Within a few hours, both lawyers are stuffed beyond belief, Foggy complaining about stomach aches, only to have Matt tease him for eating the orange chicken so fast. It's comfortable, with their knees touching as the computer keys click away with each new page of information. Foggy's yawning almost every other minute, keeping his eyes open only by sheer determination of will. The slight slip of Matt's fingers on the keys give away his exhaustion as well. They've worked 3 straight days on this case with only about an hour or two of sleep between them. Foggy stretches slightly in his seat, one arm hitching around Matt is the least subtle move of all time. 

 

"Matty. We've gotta sleep."

 

"Five minutes." Matt mumbles sluggishly, trying to type out another sentence and ending up with gibberish. 

 

"Really buddy." Foggy nudges his best friend slightly, smiling at the stubborn way Matt's fingers keep trying to formulate sentences. "You can't lawyer when you're half asleep." 

 

"Watch me." Matt grumbles, but closes his laptop all the same. He looks towards Foggy, resting his head gently on his friend's outstretched shoulder. Foggy laughs quietly, tone warm as he snuggles slightly closer to Matt. He's comfy and his natural heat is incredibly pleasant to Foggy's sleepy instincts. It's even more encouraging when Matt tucks his head against Foggy's neck, sighing happily. 

 

"Somewhere more comfy." Foggy mumbles groggily, trying to nudge his friend towards their office couch. Matt groans unhappily, but moves all the same, flopping down onto the soft cushions. Foggy smiles contentedly at the sight, grabbing one of the blankets he uses for chilly days in their heating-free office space and tucking it affectionately around his blind partner. He turns to go and find another place to sleep when Matt's fingers tangle with his own, pulling insistently as Matt looks up towards him. 

 

"Stay?" Foggy does, curling up on the couch with Matt, doing his best to give the other man some space. Matt completely ignores that courtesy, opting to snuggle against Foggy's chest instead. Foggy makes a gentle happy sound, content just to hold Matt. This is something friends who care about each other do, right? Foggy lets the thought float out of his mind as sleep starts to overtake him. Both men sleep that night with a peacefulness neither of them have had in years. 

 


	3. Court Can be a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short filler chapter to fill in Bucky and Steve's side of the story. 
> 
> Chapter beta-d by oflionsandwolves, who is being an immensely fantastic help.

Bucky flinches awake around 3AM, the taste of metal still overpowering his senses. He curls closer to Steve, burying his face against the blonde's sturdy chest. It was the same dream he's been having for a week that woke him, and it always garners the same response from his partner, the same gentle hand on his back and the soft stroke of a large hand through his hair. 

 

The dream always starts the same: an empty courtroom and the sound of a clock, keeping a torturously slow metronome that mocks the rapid pace of his own heart. Bucky sits in the conditioning chair as he waits for the judge, jury and executioner to arrive, arms strapped down and leather between his teeth. Immobilized, he bides his time as the ticking of the clock starts to become louder, more oppressive. Steve is nowhere to be found. After an agonizing and immeasurable amount of waiting, the oak doors at the end of the hall creak open, revealing the judge. The Red Skull. More gruesome still, behind the Nazi leader is Steve, metal collar around his neck and missing a limb, wound still fresh as Arnim Zola walks behind the men, looking down at the trail of Steve's blood and making a noise of disgust. 

 

"Your friend here will make a beautiful replacement for you, Asset." Schmidt nearly coos, running his hand along Steve's cheek, making Bucky utterly nauseous. "Such a good soldier. Not nearly as unruly as you. Ah yes, Captain America truly does know how to follow orders, however despicable they may be." The smirk on the Nazi's face prompts the blood to drain from Bucky's face, straining against his restraints for the chance to rip out the disgusting man's throat. He tries to speak, to question the Red Skull, but the leather in his mouth can't be forced out, and more shackles are locking him in place by the second. 

 

"The procedure is ready." Zola mutters quietly, settling Steve into a chair identical to Bucky's own. A pang of fear spikes through his blood at the sight of the device, knowing too well its purpose. 

 

'No. Please. Not him, not Steve.' The plea goes unheard as the Swiss scientist pulls a lever, sending electricity shooting through both chairs, Bucky screaming as he watches his partner convulse, his own pain seeming inconsequential, even as the taste of blood fills his mouth. 

 

He almost always wakes up at the taste, the image of Steve's pain coursing through his mind as he clings to the physical man, trying to reassure himself that none of the dream was real, that Steve was still safe and unharmed and warm in his bed. Steve groggily pulls Bucky closer as he wakes, murmuring gentle affirmation of his safety. 

 

"I'm here, Buck. I'm okay." Steve gently kisses the brunette's forehead, doing his best to reassure his partner. "I'll always be here. 'Til the end of the line."

 

"End of the line." Bucky repeats shakily, closing his eyes. The two stay tangled as Bucky starts to relax, comforted by Steve's steady heartbeat. 

 

"I love you, Bucky." Steve gives Bucky another soft kiss, this one readily reciprocated. 

 

"Love you too, punk." Bucky replies softly as their lips part, sighing as his eyes again fall shut. "Let's try to sleep."

 

"Let's." Steve lets Bucky curl around him, content to be little spoon. They fit together easily, and the normalcy of the action is what allows Bucky to feel safe, drifting back into a quiet sleep, burying the dream and hoping that this time, maybe, it would stay dead. 


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Foggy wake up after cuddling.

Foggy wakes up to the taste of stale eggrolls heavy on his tongue and the gentle press of a body in his arms. He groans softly as he shifts, eyes blinking open as his back complains about the position it was crammed into all night.  
  
Oh. Foggy blinks gently as he registers just who it is in his arms. Matt Murdock, hardcore vigilante and steadfast lawyer, is curled up against him like a koala on a tree, and it's....well, pretty damn adorable. All of Matt's features are smoothed out in sleep, the furrows in his brow and the serious set of his mouth all but washed away. Foggy reaches out a gentle hand, brushing the messy morning hair out of Matt's eyes, like it would matter in the least, slightly surprised at the sleepy little noise it elicits from his best friend. They're cuddled together like lovers, a fact that sends pangs of conflicting want and shame through Foggy's body.  
  
 _'Matt doesn't want this.'_ Foggy's brain reminds him. _'He never has.'_ He coughs quietly, disentangling their limbs. The movement rouses Matt, who looks toward Foggy with sleepy confusion.  
  
"Good morning, sunshine." Foggy smiles, trying desperately not to make things awkward. By the face Matt makes, it's pretty obvious he hasn't succeeded.  
  
"Why...what time is it, Foggy?" Matt murmurs, eyes traveling just to the side of where they need to be to meet Foggy's gaze. The furrow in his brow is back, much to Foggy's dismay. He's tempted to reply in their regular fashion with a cheery, 'half past get-the-hell-up', but it somehow doesn't feel appropriate.  
  
"Ah-" Foggy glances towards the clock in their office, squinting out the morning blurriness to make out the time. "-about 7 in the morning."  
  
Matt swears softly, pulling away from Foggy with one sharp movement, leaving Foggy chilly and oddly empty-feeling.  
  
"I need to-" Matt glances toward the door, worrying at his bottom lip. "I need to go to church." When he glances back towards Foggy, his expression is clouded with guilt in a way that solidifies Foggy's fears. Foggy gives Matt a faint nod before realizing his mistake.  
  
"Yeah. I'll clean up the office and all that." He looks away from Matt, not particularly wanting to see the shame or disgust on his face anymore. "Say hi to God for me, will ya?" Matt almost smiles, hand resting gently on the doorknob.  
  
"I will, Foggy." He leaves after that, hair and clothes still messy from sleep. Foggy groans when Matt is completely gone, letting his head fall back against the arm of the sofa.  
  
"Shit." He exhales loudly, rolling off the couch without any semblance of grace. The thud of his body to the ground reminds Foggy of the pain in his back, as well as the pain in his knees as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Why do bodies have to get older?" He grumbles, making his way lazily to the coffee machine. It doesn't take long to get a pot brewing and for Foggy to find the Advil as he starts up his morning duties. Step one includes making coffee and reading the paper to stave off any extra frustration that might build up from the uncomfortable sleeping experience of their office sofa, as well as the entire cuddling debacle. Reading the paper meant, mostly, looking at the comics. Real news tended to pertain too much to work as of late, making it a lot harder to find that well-needed reprieve. Be that as it was, Foggy spends most of the first groggy hours of morning light reading Marmaduke instead of researching. Around the time his coffee is lukewarm enough to be uncomfortable is when Foggy hauls himself up from the table, yawning and stretching. Feeling the pills kick in, he starts to clean up the office, throwing away empty Chinese food cartons and stacking scattered papers back on their desks, lost in thought.  
  
\--  
  
They'd only cuddled one other time. It was surprisingly sweet for the drunk mess of an embrace it became. Matt had helped him finish off an entire bottle of whiskey, and he always laughed at the sputtering noises Foggy made when he sipped the bitter liquid. Matt's cheeks got pink when he laughed and Foggy had called him beautiful. A moment passed in silence, and Foggy felt his whole world crumbling around him before Matt had leaned in close and put his hand to Foggy's face, thumb tracing the gentle lines and curves of the features. Foggy held his breath as Matt looked towards him, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled.  
  
"You're beautiful, too." An eternity passed with Matt's hands mapping out every inch of Foggy's face, threading through his hair, solidifying the only true 'visual' Matt could get. The act was intimate, leaving Foggy breathless until Matt's arms circled around his shoulders, pulling them chest to chest. Foggy rested his head in the cradle of Matt's neck and shoulder, nuzzling into the warmth. In response, Matt sighed happily, eyes closing. Foggy never really figured out when they fell asleep, or how they ended up curled in each other's arms. The image that stuck the hardest was found in the morning, when, hangover-addled, Foggy had turned to say good morning to Matt and found a note instead of his devastatingly gorgeous roommate.  
  
 _"Foggy,_  
  
 _Let's not talk about last night. Not right now, at least. There's fresh bagels on the counter. Your favorite place._  
  
 _-Matt"_  
  
Foggy did his best to ignore the look of his own tears smudging Matt's already messy handwriting as he crumpled the note into a ball and threw it away.  
  
\--  
  
When the office is clean, Foggy glances at the clock. Three hours. Matt has been at church for three damn hours. Foggy sighs, giving up on waiting for his partner. He pulls out his laptop, starting to dig into their new lead.  
  
"She has a freaking Wikipedia article?" Foggy murmurs to himself, clicking through the link.  
  
 **BLACK WIDOW**

  
_**(Redirected from Natalia Romanova. For others with the name, see Natalia Romanova (disambiguation).)**_  
  
Natasha Romanov (alt: Romanoff), born Natalia Alianovna Romanova, is a former soviet spy, superhero and trained assassin. Much of her early life is unknown, but she was known to be trained by KGB operatives to be a deadly weapon against American operatives. Through unknown circumstances, Romanov was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D director Nicholas J. Fury as a special operations agent. Under the moniker "Black Widow," Romanov assisted in the recruitment of members for the super-team known as The Avengers. The Avengers were key members in the defense of Earth during the Battle of New York in 2012, although the widespread destruction of the areas surrounding the site of the battle have many questioning how effective that defense was **[1]**. Romanov was also involved in both 2012's Battle against HYDRA in Washington, D.C. **[2]** (Resulting in her own records being released to the public, as well as the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D) and 2015's destructive Battle of Sokovia **[3]**. It is unknown whether or not groups like the Avengers will be allowed to operate after intense public outcry demanding retribution for damages caused by these battles. Romanov has not, to this date, been convicted on any criminal charges related to the Avengers Initiative **[4]**.  
  


**Notes**

  
**[1]** The battle resulted in 74 human civilian and officer casualties, as well as an estimated $18.8 billion in property damage.  
 **[2]** 23 casualties, $2.8 billion in property damage.  
 **[3]** 177 casualties, $484 billion in property damage and the destruction of the entire city of Novi Grad.  
 **[4]** S.H.I.E.L.D and its members were brought under investigation following the Battle of D.C., and although the organization itself was dissolved, Romanov and other acting members of The Avengers were not charged with any crimes.

  
\--  
  
Foggy swears quietly as he closes the tab, rubbing the furrow between his brow. 'She's a fucking Russian spy. Or at least a former one. And the prosecutors will point that out in a nanosecond.' He shuts the laptop in frustration as the telltale sounds of Karen arriving at the office reach his ears.  
  
"Hey, Foggy!" Karen calls cheerily from the front room, setting her coat down on her chair. "How's the research going?"  
  
"I wish I could say fantastically, but that's a bit of a lie." Foggy replies, a bit louder than normal to get through the walls. Karen strolls into the back office, face set in a worried frown.  
  
"Hit a wall or something?" She tilts her head empathetically, sliding into the seat next to him.  
  
"Our biggest witness so far is ex-KGB. Prosecution'll have a field day with it." Foggy gestures vaguely at his notepad, sprinkled with hastily scrawled talking points and important facts. Karen purses her lips as she reads, glancing back up at Foggy when she's finished.  
  
"I'm sure you'll be able to use her. She's a character witness to how different Mr. Barnes was as the Soldier. We can remind the prosecution that she's not the one on trial if need-be." Karen rests her hand gently over Foggy's own, noticeably relaxing when he gives her a tired smile.  
  
"Yeah. It's all about the way we swing it, right?"  
  
"Right." Karen nods energetically before studying Foggy for a moment. "That's not the only thing, though, is it?" Foggy winces at the way Karen sees through him so easily.  
  
"You're too damn perceptive sometimes, Page."  
  
"Aw, you love it." Karen smirks, arm going around Foggy's shoulder easily. Foggy laughs at the warmth of it, resting his head on Karen's arm.  
  
"Well, duh. Why else do you think we keep you around?" He grins. Karen just rolls her eyes, punching Foggy's shoulder lightly.  
  
"Really, Nelson. 'Fess up."  
  
"Fine." Foggy sighs, smile dropping off his face. "It's personal stuff. With me and Matt. Stuff I'm not super comfortable talking about completely yet." Karen nods at the admission, squeezing Foggy's arm affectionately.  
  
"You two will work it out. You always do. Just be honest with each other, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Foggy looks away, trying not to seem as nauseous as he actually is at the thought of telling Matt Murdock that he has very un-Catholic thoughts about his best friend and his dumb cute face. Karen nudges Foggy to get him to turn towards her before pulling the lawyer into a hug.  
  
"You can do it, Fogs." She releases him from the hug with a smile, patting the man's shoulder. "Now, I've gotta get to work replying to voicemails and being overly perceptive. Compile evidence or talk to Matt, okay?" Foggy just nods in reply, reshuffling his papers as Karen goes back out to her desk. His eyes go back to the scrawled notes on Natasha Romanov, and, in that moment, he picks the least painful option. Time to call an ex-KGB operative and schedule an interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would people feel about Nat having dated Matt before? It's canon to the comics, and I think it'd be interesting, but I'd also like to see if people think it'd make sense for the narrative. Any feedback is appreciated! Thanks!


	5. Behind The Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our dashing lawyers meet a certain ex-KGB agent and learn a little bit more about James Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting with this chapter, I'm going to be taking a short break while I work on my Senior thesis! To make up for that, this will be a double update, and I really hope it works. 
> 
> Beta'd, as always, by the lovely oflionsandwolves.

Natasha Romanov seems to take up more space than both supersoldiers did in the office, smile nonchalant as she drums her fingers on the wooden arm of the waiting area chair. It makes Foggy nervous as hell, almost spilling the sugar bowl as he spoons in the precise "two sugars, one cream" the ex-KGB agent requested. Matt paces the back office, gathering papers and a tape recorder, running over their talking points quietly to himself. The slight smirk on Natasha's lips indicates how funny she finds two grown men breaking down in front of her to be. Personally, Foggy still can't believe they even managed to get her to come in, nevertheless agree to testify on the witness stand. He walks the coffee over to the lithe woman, careful not to spill, forcing a smile as he hands the drink over.    
  
"You don't have to be nervous, Mr. Nelson. I don't bite." Natasha grins, taking a small sip of the drink, leaving a ring of lipstick on the lip of the mug. "Well, not unless there's a good reason." The side of her lips tick up at the way Foggy's face goes pale at her words. From across the room, Matt coughs, causing both Natasha and Foggy to look towards him.    
  
"I believe we're ready to start if you are, Ms. Romanov." Matt flashes Natasha his most charming smile, gesturing towards the door of their office space.    
  
"I think I am, gentlemen." Natasha's voice is smooth, mirroring her ascent from the waiting chair. "Is the interrogation room prepped?" The sarcasm is readily apparent on Natasha's face, and honestly way more intimidating than it humanly should be.    
  
"It quite certainly is." Matt's response is a perfect counterparry, melting the sarcasm on Natasha's face into a look of near-fondness. Foggy notes the expression with slight apprehension.    
  
"Do you two know each other?" Matt's about to shake his head when Natasha cuts in with a smile, calm and collected.    
  
"Yes, although I doubt Mr. Murdock remembers. I looked quite different back then." She takes that moment to stride into the office, taking her seat at the small table. Matt stares at nothing for a moment, confused, before taking his own place across from her.    
  
"I'm afraid I don't recall. Remind me?"    
  
"I was going by a different name at the time. Back when I had missions, you know? Do you remember Petra Kovac?" Her tone is slightly teasing, eyes focused completely on Matt, even as Foggy slides in next to him. Matt's expression stays blank as Nat talks, carefully constructed to be unreadable, something Foggy recognizes easily from court. "Well, no matter, she remembered you."   
  
"Who were you reporting back to at the time?" A trickle of discomfort laces Matt's voice.    
  
"A guy named Stick. He mostly just asked how you were doing. Nothing damning. And he didn't give out your personal information either, if you're worried about that." Her tone has softened a bit, eyes flicking over to Foggy. "I talked to him a lot about your friends. You sure liked telling stories about Foggy there." She winks subtly at the man in question, smirking a little. "But you wanted to hear about my time with James, right?"    
  
"Personally, I'd prefer it." Foggy pipes up, gesturing at his notepad. Natasha smiles at that, relaxing back in her seat.    
  
"What would you like to know?"    
  
"Start with the first time you met him." Foggy encourages, readying his pen for notes. Nat nods, sobering.    
  
"I was young. My training at the Red Room had begun with ballet, and one day, they took me out of the mirrored room to this dark subsection of the facility, told me not to be scared. Nothing scares a kid more than that, honestly, but I knew better at that point than to show it. I was left in a dark room with one metal chair and two doors. I chose to stand rather than show my weakness right out of the gate. Maybe that impressed them, because a handler was showing him in within ten minutes. He was clean shaven, posture upright." A small smile graces her face, tainted by sadness. "I didn't see him like that again for a really long time. But that's beside the point." Natasha's face goes serious again, wiped clean of sentimentality. "The handler said he would be training me in my more necessary functions. He nodded at James and James....he came towards me, tripped me and got me pinned with my arm almost dislocated. He let me struggle for about two seconds before releasing me and stepping back into a position where I could try the same move. I should have been scared then. A man could have just killed me." She smiles without humor, hands tightening slightly on the arms of her chair. "I liked the rush of it. He walked me through the steps like I was just doing another dance at the ballet studio. Within a few weeks, I had pinned the test subject they had given me to practice on; a boy twice my age. I broke his arm with no hesitation. The handlers were pleased, and I was moved on to the next round of training." She pauses, looking up at the two lawyers with a tired smile. "I'm guessing you've figured out that I won't be the ideal 'James saved me and I became a perfectly good person' story."   
  
"We don't need that story." Matt murmurs softly, crossing his hands gently in front of him. "We just need the truth." Natasha's smile warms slightly at that, and she nods.    
  
"She nodded, Matty." Foggy mutters idly to his partner, still slightly lost in the story.    
  
"If you want the truth, it's not going to be pretty. I hope you're prepared." Natasha warns them, sitting forward slightly in her seat.    
  
"We are." Matt insists, giving Nat a small reassuring smile. Content with the answer, she continues.    
  
"The training progressed as I grew, although it wasn't always with James. I became stronger, more vicious. Every so often, they would bring in James to test me. I was told to refer to him as Yasha, the only name I was supplied. Before that, he was only ever talked about as 'your trainer' or 'the asset'. Now, he was Yasha, and every time I saw him, he held back less and less. By the age of 12, I was coming out of our training sessions with broken limbs and fractured ribs, as well as a determination to learn his every fault and use it against him." Natasha smiles tightly, a cold pride in her eyes. "I memorized every technique he used against me, and our sessions grew longer and longer as it became harder to beat me. At 15, we were at a standstill when we went hand-to-hand. The trainers decided it was time for weapons. Yasha showed me the techniques on practice dummies before we graduated to real targets. That summer, I had learned 57 different ways to incapacitate a man with a nail file and was proficient with every firearm Yasha could teach me about." She looks up at the two lawyers, laughing softly. "Funny thing was, in the 10 years I had known him, he hadn't aged a day. He looked exactly the same every time I saw him. Long, messy hair, patchy stubble, eyes that always looked like they were searching for something unless he was in the middle of a fight. He was a true constant." Nat's smile turns wistful as she remembers, obviously content. "We were sent on a few missions together before I was deemed to be a proper weapon. That was the only time I really got to see him out of the environment of the red room." Her smile drops, brows knitting together slightly. "He was so different when he was away from the handlers for long enough. He had more nightmares, and he sometimes didn't respond to his name. It was a really big change from how he was around the handlers. With them, he was the perfect weapon the Red Room wanted. No questions. Finger on the trigger and ready to pull. Away from the influence, he always eventually seemed...lost. That's when they had me take him back to base. I caught on to what was happening a few years after I started going on my own missions, after I stopped seeing him. I overheard a conversation between two of the guards, hushed tones that I was never supposed to catch on to. They said the Asset was being sold to HYDRA, that it needed to be wiped and have any Russian programming put on lockdown to make way for new commands. I knew it was Yasha. I didn't see him again for years, when he was firing a shot into me to kill the man I was protecting. Whoever had him did a good job at taking away anything he remembered. I didn't see any recognition in his eyes. It was like he was a stranger. They finally took away the man behind the weapon." Her voice is quiet when she finishes the story, knuckles white.    
  
"He's back now. And he won't be a weapon ever again." Foggy murmurs gently, offering Natasha his hand. She regards it with a look of slight incredulousness before taking it gently.    
  
"I know." Natasha sighs slightly, shoulders relaxing from their tensed state. "I can find records of all this if you want. They haven't burned every KGB file yet."   
  
"Can it be done legally?" Matt tilts his head slightly, a small smile on his lips.    
  
"Well, that's no fun." Nat snorts, the rest of the tension melting from her body. "But if you insist, I could try." The group chats for another few minutes, Foggy offering Natasha tea before she informs them that she has another appointment. "I'll call you about the information in a few days. Good?"   
  
"Good." Foggy nods, waving her out with a gentle smile. As the door closes, he turns to Matt, eyebrow raised. "What'd you think?" Matt shifts uncomfortably, hand trailing over Natasha's printed-out Braille Wikipedia page as if the information would ground him.    
  
"Her heartbeat was...it was amazingly steady. Almost the whole time. It was a bit unsettling." His brows knit together slightly, fingers trailing across the wood grain of their desk.    
  
"I'm guessing that's probably a part of the whole 'super spy trained by the KGB' thing." Foggy shrugs, taking his notes over to his laptop to type them up for Matt's use.    
  
"I guess. I'm just not used to it." Matt frowns, fidgeting with his shirt slightly. Foggy puts his arm around his partner, sighing gently.    
  
"It'll be okay, Matty. She wasn't lying, right?"    
  
"She wasn't." Matt relaxes imperceptibly, head tilting more towards Foggy. "I'm just nervous about this trial, I guess." Foggy starts to rub circles on Matt's back, gentle and reassuring.    
  
"Hey, it's okay to be nervous. This is a big thing and I know it could have serious repercussions for the hero community. But we're gonna win this trial, okay?" Matt nods, finally relaxing into Foggy's touch.    
  
"Okay." He agrees softly, eyes closing behind his glasses. Foggy smiles gently pulling his laptop closer.    
  
"I'm gonna type up my notes and then we can go over them, okay? But for now, you need to rest." In response, Matt snuggles closer into Foggy's shoulder, relaxing.    
  
"I said hi to God for you." Matt murmurs gently against Foggy's shirt. "When you asked."  Foggy smiles gently at the warmth of the comment, slightly surprised that Matt brought up anything that closely related to their cuddle session.    
  
"Thanks. I probably need it." Foggy starts to type up the notes, keeping still enough that his partner won't be jostled. Matt makes a contented sound, cementing the mood of the room. Foggy works in peaceful silence, letting his best friend earn some well-needed sleep.


	6. Before We Were Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small interlude into life before the war, before the soldier or the asset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the previous chapter, I'm going to be taking a short break while I work on my Senior thesis! To make up for that, this is a double update! See chapter 5 for normal plot things as opposed to 40s birthday mush
> 
> Beta'd by oflionsandwolves.

March 10th, 1940, with the sounds of soft Jazz on the record player and two bodies swaying in the moonlight. Bucky smiled gently at the feeling of Steve pressed securely to his chest, head barely up to the brunette's shoulders. They always fit so well together, one hand slipping perfectly around Steve's waist. The moonlight sent shadows and light dancing across the smaller man's hair, making it shine silver.    
  
"You're beautiful, you know." Bucky murmured, thumb reaching out to slide across Steve's cheek, to feel the telltale heat of blush spread across his face.    
  
"And you tell the tallest damn tales I've ever heard." The sounds of Steve's protest was muffled by the press of his face against Bucky's shirt, basking slightly in the bigger man's warmth.    
  
"Not true. Billy Sherman once told that story about getting a mermaid pregnant in Europe, I think he takes the cake." Bucky traces the curve of Steve's spine, careful and utterly enraptured, even as a smirk shone on his face. The undignified snorting noise against his chest informs Bucky that the anecdote hit right where it was supposed to.    
  
"Fine then. You're a charmer." Steve looked up at Bucky with a twinkle in his eye, grinning and wrapping his arms around his lover.    
  
"Aw, you gotta say that. 'S my birthday." Bucky rolled his eyes, leaning down slightly to nuzzle against Steve's cheek.    
  
"I don't have to say anything, Buck, and you know I always say what I mean." The smaller man kissed his friend's cheek gently. "Especially to my best guy." Bucky laughed as he turned his head, capturing Steve's lips in a deeper kiss.    
  
"No, you just leave out the truth sometimes so you can go out and pick fights with drunk asses at bars." The words provoked a scowl from Steve, even as his eyes showed the telltale beginnings of a smile. Within a few short moments, Bucky had kissed the scowl off of him, melting back into a comfortable routine, breaking every minute so Steve could remember to breathe. Bucky always took care to make sure of that, concerned that one day he might kiss his darling too much and see the life drain out of his little body. It tended to come up in his nightmares quite too much for Bucky's liking, if he was being quite honest. After a comfortable silence spent holding his Stevie, they parted, Bucky's large hand cupping Steve's cheek.    
  
"I really do love you. You know that?" The small blonde's hand reached up, tracing the feeling of Bucky's stubble against his thumb.    
  
"I love you too. Always will, Stevie." Bucky pulled Steve close as Glenn Miller's trombone swirled around the room. Steve rested his head against his partner's chest, listening to the beat of his heart as they twirled, away from the public eye of the big dance halls. Bucky always found the prettiest dames to dance with, but Steve could never find anyone that fit to him like his best friend. Girls sometimes asked him what he was waiting for when he played the wallflower. The answer was always the same. 'I'm just waiting for the right partner.' It was about half right- he'd found the right partner, but almost never a good venue to dance in.    
  
"Buck?" Steve locked eyes with his best friend, a bit nervous. "Do you think we're gonna get pulled into that war in Europe?" The tone of the room shifted, and Bucky slipped his arm more protectively around Steve's waist.    
  
"If we're decidedly unlucky, yeah." Steve frowned at the proclamation, going a bit tense under Bucky's hands.    
  
"If we get pulled in....I'm gonna try to enlist, Buck. You know that, right?" Bucky winced slightly, but nodded.    
  
"I know. And I'll be there beside you, okay?"    
  
"'Til the end of the line?" The blonde tilted his head up at his lover, eyes pleading.    
  
"'Til the end of the line." Bucky smiled warmly back, nuzzling his best friend gently. "Now, are we gonna eat that birthday cake you made or what?" The two men smiled at each other, content in the idea that they'd never be torn apart.


	7. Time Slipped Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve give more insight to the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter edited by my sister! A very fun event.   
> I'm sorry for the long wait guys, I got bronchitis on top of writer's block, both of which kind of wrecked me. I'm still battling off coughing fits, but I'm powering through! Anyways, I'm going to be trying to write whenever I can! Please bear with me guys.

Steve runs a gentle thumb along his partner's palm as they sit in the small waiting room, flashing Bucky a hopefully-calming smile. The brunette beside Steve replies with a warm, if not slightly nervous, grin. 

 

"Relax, Buck. They talked to Nat, and she practically adores you." Steve shifts slightly, pulling the smaller man a bit closer to him, a concept that never really lost its novelty. 

 

"She might adore me, but I doubt there were nearly as many good words to say about the soldier." A slight venom sours the words. Bucky's eyes look steelier than normal, despite his smile. "And that's who's on trial here." Steve shakes his head at the statement, placing a firm hand on his companion's shoulder. 

 

"No. You're the one on trial, and that means the only verdict we're gonna see is 'innocent'. You aren't the soldier, Bucky." The man in question just nods a bit blankly, not processing all the words. "Bucky. Look at me." He does as commanded, eyes flitting up to meet Steve's. "I'm not losing you again." The Captain's expression is firm, military-stern, all except for the eyes. Those are haunted by a decades-old sadness, a longing Bucky has only started to remember. 

 

The moment is interrupted by the lawyers stepping out from their office, bickering quietly, with Mr. Nelson holding a box of baked goods. 

 

"-No, if they advertise a Boston cream donut, there's a specific ratio, okay? It can't be that weird pathetic trickle thing that they do in gas station donuts." 

 

"Foggy, we can't sue a donut shop for not conforming to your ideal of what a Boston cream donut should be." The taller lawyer smiles gently as he talks, grip relaxed on his cane. "Anyways, the Barnes case takes precedence." 

 

"I'd hope so." Steve remarks, lifting an eyebrow at the scene. Murdock tilts his head their way, as if just noticing them. 

 

"Ah, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes. Did Karen let you in?" Bucky responds with a terse nod, not really thinking about the motion. 

 

"He nodded, Matt." Foggy translates easily as second nature, placing the box of pastries in front of the two soldiers. 

 

"Sorry." Matt flashes them a small apologetic smile. "We were going to have breakfast ready for you when you arrived, I guess time slipped away." 

 

"I'm familiar with the concept." Steve smiles back, eyes tired. "Should we get started?" 

 

"Please." Murdock nods, taking a seat across from the soldiers. "Can you tell us about how the last few months have been treating you?" 

 

"Take a guess." Bucky snorts, reaching into the pastry box for a cake donut. "Being an assumed murderer being hunted down for manslaughter isn't particularly great, especially when the 'dead or alive' warrant is really focusing on the 'dead' bit." Nelson cringes slightly at the sardonic nature of the statement, starting to scribble down some notes. Steve's grip on his partner's leg tightens slightly, a warning towards civility. It's both a reassurance and a reminder, pushing Bucky into a more serious frame of mind. "Yeah. It was hard." He brushes loose hair back out of his vision, conscious of using the flesh hand. "I had to keep running. There was no safe place after HYDRA. The government wanted me dead, any HYDRA remnants wanted me blank, and Steve....I didn't know what was real...." Bucky's eyes fix squarely on the floor, trying to memorize the pattern of the wood grain. "All I felt was fear. Memories were flooding back into my head, things that conflicted with what I was taught, emotions that were too strong for the soldier....it took me a while to realize that they weren't the soldier's. They were Bucky's- they were mine." His gaze flicks up to Steve, then back towards the ground. "I went back to being a ghost story. Stayed hidden, started to process whatever I could. When I realized what I was doing...when I realized what I'd done, I promised myself I wouldn't do it again. Not for anyone." There's a finality to the last word, accompanied by the clench of a jaw and tightened knuckles. 

 

"And then there was the Zemo debacle." Murdock's voice cuts through the tense moment like a knife, crisp and clean. Bucky's gaze snaps towards him, eyes cold. 

 

"Right. That." His tone is leaden as he speaks, fists clenching tighter. "Helmet Zemo got ahold of soviet commands that hadn't been wiped from my system. He made me break my promise." 

 

"It wasn't your choice." Steve murmurs gently, resting a calming hand over Bucky's flesh fist. "And it didn't last."

 

"Yeah." Bucky relaxes subtly into the touch. "And it helped you find me." He turns slightly to the lawyers, leveling his gaze with the sighted lawyer's. "Steve...I felt safe with him. I was still confused, still hyper-vigilant, but he felt familiar. He made me remember things faster than I had in months." Steve smiles gently as the brunette speaks, eyes fond. "I'd been trying to profile him before, this Captain America who claimed to know me, the man I pulled out of the Potomac when I still couldn't remember my middle name, trying to connect Steve Rogers the man to my mission. When I saw him, things seemed to click into place." Bucky's eyes drift to Steve's, and he seems more comfortable than at any previous session. "He was my best friend, and I had no idea why he was fighting so hard to save me, but like hell if I'd stop him." 

 

"I promised myself I wouldn't lose you again." Steve murmurs, thumb starting to trace gentle patterns against Bucky's hands. "And I never could give up on you. It was always you and me, 'til the end of the line." His eyes lock with Bucky's, warm and sincere. "My biggest regret in life was not being able to catch your hand on that train. I will do everything in my power for the rest of my life to keep you safe. I won't fail you again." 

 

The moment is broken by an awkward cough from the Nelson half of the law firm, causing both soldiers to snap back to attention. 

 

"Do you think there's anyone else who can talk about the difference between Bucky and the soldier?" 

 

"Sam probably could." Steve glances towards his partner for conformation, earning a small nod in response. He turns back to the lawyers, smiling apologetically. "Sam Wilson. He's a therapist at the VA and one of the only people by my side while I was looking for Bucky." 

 

"Do you have his contact information? It would be useful to have more sources." Matt smiles warmly in the direction of the two soldiers, expression carefully molded to hide any indication that he noticed any extra affection between the pair. 

 

"Oh, sure." The blond super soldier rummages in his wallet, pulling out a dog-eared business card adorned with the information of one Samuel Wilson. 

 

"Fantastic. Is there anything else you want to tell us about the lead up to the case before we end this session?" Matt tilts his head towards the men as Foggy takes the card, paperclipping it to that day's notes. 

 

"Not too much." Bucky shrugs slightly, posture again guarded. "The past few months have been a long process of therapy sessions, history lessons and press conference avoidance. I can't go outside without being called a murderer by someone or another. I'm still trying to conflate my existence for the past several decades with the memories from 1944. It's hard to tell where everything fits in, or if some stuff even fits in at all." He sighs tiredly, eyes settling on the metal of his mechanical arm. "I didn't choose any of this, but that doesn't take the blood off of my hands. To most of the world, I'm a corruption of the American Dream; A loyal soldier ripped from the line of duty and twisted into a Nazi weapon. They don't see the years and years of HYDRA conditioning. All they see is Captain America's sidekick-turned-traitor. And I'm not sure anything will change that. Not even this."

 

"We'll try." Murdock insists, posture intense. "I promise you, Mr. Barnes." 

 

\--

 

The rest of the session is wrapped up quickly, with Steve and Bucky saying polite goodbyes, leaving the lawyers to their work. 

 

"Stevie? Be honest: do you think we can win this?" Bucky keeps his voice lowered as they walk back to their apartment. 

 

"I do." Steve flashes Bucky a smile that's a touch too tired to be completely reassuring. "Or at least I can hope so." 

 

"I hope so too." Bucky murmurs, lacing his fingers with Steve's. "We have a lot of time to make up for." 


End file.
